


This Is Gonna Hurt

by NickedNack



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Femdom, I don't know how old these characters are so I'm deciding their 18, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Their not gonna have these two do it before the series ends so I'll do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 12:46:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18032003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickedNack/pseuds/NickedNack
Summary: Selina knows it isn't her problem when Bruce Wayne is suddenly replaced by some womanizing playboy prince; but after everything that's gone between them over the years, she just can't stand by and lose him too. So, she decides to take a leaf out of Tabitha Galavan's book on How To Fix Your Fucked Up Ex!





	This Is Gonna Hurt

**Well, I had this idea back during the mid season break of Gotham season four, as a possible way Bruce might get snapped out of his funk and he and Selina could get back together. I'm not very surprised they went a different way. The smut will come later, either in the second or third chapter.**

 

**Disclaimer: I don't know how old these character's are supposed to be at this point in the series, but I'm just gonna say their both eighteen.**

 

Selina was starting to get real tired of these parties (they couldn't get some music from _this_ century every once and awhile) but she still did up her hair and spent a few hours circling through the room. Tonight there were a few more kids her age, and she made a point to actually talk to a few, even dance with one or two of the guys. It was tempting to just let herself go for a night, to just sit back and be one of the kids, but she'd learned that wasn't really what happened at these parties.

Dancing, flirting, even just talking, as far as Selina could tell it was all just a kind of nonviolent sparing. Everyone who walked through the door of the Siren's club and ordered a drink was after something, or trying to avoid something, and everything they did danced around that. If you learned to look for the signs you could read most people pretty easily, but they wouldn't come out and tell you. No one played it straight in Gotham.

Whenever she told herself that, a nagging part of Selina's mind would bring up a certain rich boy's familiar face, but she forced it down as soon as it appeared.

One of the many thing's she'd learned from Tabitha, was always keep your claws sharp. All your claws, all the time. So she stalked her way through the glittering crowd, and stepped in here and there to practice the weird not-combat of rich people. It was mostly the same lessons she learned on the street (spot the easy mark, don't get caught in a corner, never bite off more than you can chew) just glossed over with fake manners. She learned to speak the language. And if a few rich people left with less money or jewelry than they came with, well she was just keeping her other claws sharp too.

This particular night was just getting into full swing, as Selina finished up a round on the dance floor with one the dozens of unremarkable pretty boys who came through every night. It took about two minutes to conclude he was just out looking to get laid, and after some obligatory flirting she gracefully slipped away. Sitting down at the bar, Selina ordered a drink as she discretely rolled up one sleeve, admiring the watch she'd nabbed off him.

“Cat got a treat?”

Selina pulled her sleeve down and whirled in her seat, coming face to face with Bruce Wayne, the newly minted playboy prince of Gotham.

Selina's grip on her glass tightened just a little, and something rebellious in her stomach heaved a bit at the site of him. Because the truth was she'd been missing Bruce Wayne. When they were younger, against all her better judgment, he'd become one of the rocks her world was precariously built on; and in spite of all the time's he'd dropped out of her life, she'd come to expect him to always come back.

But this wasn't Bruce Wayne.

“Is that Tom's watch,” he motioned with his glass, taking a seat next to her.

Selina shrugged noncommittally, “Well if he hadn't stepped on my toes so many times!”

“Is Kris any better as a dancer?”

Selina frowned at him. “Who?”

“Oh, I guess he _did_ just lose his wallet in the limo,” Bruce shrugged, and downed another shot.

“Yah, all these spoiled rich kids,” Selina emphasized her tone. “ Pretty easy marks, they never learned how to take care of themselves. Of course, they never have to worry abut the stuff they lose, or the things they break.”

Bruce got her meaning, she could tell, but it didn't get a rise out of him. He just grinned even more maniacally, and leaned in close and stage-whispered to her. “Don't bother with Ashley's necklace, it's not real diamond!”

Selina raised an eyebrow, frown deepening. “It doesn't bother you that I'm stealing from your friends? That I'm stealing when I don't need to?”

“I don't give a damn what you do Selina,” he shrugged, pushing his cup toward the bartender for a refill. “Rules are made to be broken after all.”

There was some bitter irony in the fact that this was an attitude Selina had wished Bruce would adopt many times in the past. But not like this.

“Every bodies got to get by,” he raised his glass and stirred it in his hand, peering close at the liquid like he was trying to see something in it. “And in Gotham you pretty much have to live for the madness to keep from going completely insane!”

Taking a sip from her own glass, Selina snuck a sidelong look at him. Was that actually an admission of some kind? Part of her longed to ask him what the hell was going on, to wrap her arms around him (or maybe her hands around his throat) until he started talking. But that wasn't how it worked, for either of them. Either Bruce _decided_ to tell you what he was feeling, or you had to pull his teeth to get him too. And she didn't really know how to go about asking in the first place.

“BRUCE,” some girl who looked like she was getting too drunk to stay in her heels but had managed to keep her mascara annoyingly perfect was waving for him from a little crowd of teens who were starting to spill out the door. “Abbey found a club doing karaoke on the 5th floor, are you coming?”

“ALRIGHT!” Bruce lurched to his feet, an infuriatingly fake grin plastered on his face. “Nice seeing you Selina, you should come join us some time. You could teach us how to knock over a liquor store or something, be just like old times.”

“Yah,” Selina mumbled as she watched her old friend melt of into the crowd, excepting a rolled up joint from somebody. “The good old days.”

 

* * *

 

 

Selina pushed the service entrance open with her shoulder and strode out into the alley behind their building. Stepping over or skirting around the passed out drunks mumbling druggies who'd spilled out from half a dozen parties to get some fresh air, she stalked deeper into the alley; lifting up one of the cans she held to shake enticingly.

“All right party kids, get it while it's hot.”

She stopped a good distance off from the last alley bum, and knelt down to sprinkle the cat-food across the pavement. On cue, a dozen of her little friends appeared, stepping out from every nook and cranny to scurry into the light. In a minute Selina was surrounded by a furry, muling throng, each being sure to get their fair share before sauntering over to rub affectionately against their benefactor.

Selina put all her worries out of mind, and reached down to scratch under the chin of one cat with a nasty scar where its left eye should have been. “How you doing there Gumdrop, sticking to the safe streets tonight?” One particularly affectionate cat she'd dubbed Fluffyfingers leapt up on her shoulder, and Selina grinned lazily as she rubbing against her and purred like an engine.

Then the service door burst open with a bang, and the cats scattered like roaches. Selina whirled around, and slipped behind a dumpster when she saw who it was. The Narrow Kings gang owned a small casino on the 17th floor; and the poor bastard the four thugs were dragging out must have lost big.

The two bigger thugs threw him to the ground, and another ugly with a fancy suit and too much hairgel kicked him in the gut, and kept kicking him to drag the pain out instead of skipping ahead to the demands.

“All right, get him up,” the man snapped his fingers and the two muscle guys hoisted the poor bastard off his feet. “All right Danny boy,” the man snarled in that fake casualness mobsters used. “There's one way where you get out of here with your insides intact, and it's you finding a way to cough up the couple grand you owe us.”

_Stay out of it_ , a little voice in the back of Selina's head told her. _The idiot got himself in trouble, it's not your job to help him._ She clenched her fists, wishing she had one of Tabitha's whips with her.

“P-p-please,” the man fumbled trying to stand up straight, sagging in the arms of his captors. “I have an uncle, he's got enough money to pay it. But, but he wouldn't give it to me if he knew about . . I'll have to go alone an-”

“And be on the mainland running south in an hour,” Hairgel pulled out a knife from somewhere and pressed it to the guys throat. “I think we're never gonna see that money, unless I try a little creative redecorating on your-”

At first Selina thought the dark clothed figure had come out of the service doors too fast and quiet to be noticed, until she realized he'd been one of the bums curled up in the alley. The rescuer sent Hairgel sprawling with one punch to the face, and had kicked one of the musclemen in the stomach before they knew he was their. The other thug dropped their victim and swung a meaty fist at their attacker; who stepped back and knocked his blow aside, immediately spinning in place to backhand a gun out of the fourth thugs grip before he could use it.

The muscleman made another swing at him, but now the smaller attacker darted closer inside his reach, and caught the arm as he drove his own fist into the guys stomach and neck. As the big guy went tumbling down his ugly friend had got back up onto his feet, and the gunless man had puled a knife from somewhere. For a minute the smaller attacker glanced back and forth between the two, until the guy behind him lunged forward with the knife to stab him while his back was turned. Instead the man caught his arm and sent him stumbling forward, right into the path of the bigger guys punch.

The blow dropped the thug like a rock, but the big guy managed to get another one out that took the attacker by surprise. He almost dodged it, but the man's fist connected with his shoulder. He was sent spinning backward against a dumpster, and the thug went in for the kill; when his smaller opponent pulled a piece of pipe out of the trash and swung it into the man's skull, sending him to the ground too.

Hairgel had gotten back to his feet, his slick hair smeared with mud and his nice suit stained from the blood pouring out of his nose. “Do you have any ide-” was all he got out before the attacker stepped out and grabbed his arm and shoulder, throwing him face first into the side of the dumpster.

It had taken less than two minutes. Selina probably would have jump in and helped, if she'd had time to get over her surprise. By now Danny Boy, or whatever his name was, had stagger to his feet, clutching his beaten stomach. Mouth hanging open in shock, he looked around at the carnage in a daze, before turning to his rescuer. “Holy F-fuck! How did . . . where . . . t-thanks man!”

The hero in black didn't respond, because he was leaning against the dumpster to puke his guts out into it. With loud, splattering groans he heaved over and over again, until they began coming up dry and Danny Boy's grateful expression turned a little uncomfortable. “Um, ar-re you okay man?”

“Yah, yah I'm fine,” there was no mistaking Bruce Wayne's voice, sick and nauseous though it was, “Just two f-f-for one tequila night.” Selina could see his pale and bloodshot face before he leaned back over and hurled again, dry heaving painfully.

“You need help?!” It was sort of a question and a statement at the same time, and Danny Boy fumbled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I'll call nine one one an-”

“NO COPS,” Bruce had turned around to face him, leaning back heavily against the dumpster. His eyebrows knit as he looked around the alley in confusion, as if he couldn't remember how he ended up beating the crap out of four strangers. “Just” _urg_ “you just better get out of here” _auh_ “the court might send more talons!”

Danny boy just stood there, thumbs wavering over his phone in indecision. “Uh . . . come again?”

“Never” urg “mind!” Bruce lazily waving a hand at the guy, like he was trying to either brush off the guys questions or swat at an annoying imaginary insect. “We just need to go.”

“B-but come on man, I've got to thank you. I mean, I don't even know your name?”

“Brant Jones,” Bruce mumbles, lurching to his feet and rubbing one hand against his forehead. He stumbled for a second, all the speed and sureness gone, before hobbling over to the older man who looked like he wanted to try and help him. “And two grand says this never happened.” Selina was sharped eyed enough to see that the money Bruce fished out of his coat pocket and stuck in Danny Boy's was actually only a couple bucks, but before the guy can say anything Bruce hobbled on out of the alley. Selina lost site of him when he turned the corner, but could hear him call, “Ta-ughh Taxi!”

 

* * *

 

The party at the Sirens was over by the time Selina slunk back in. Striding past the unlucky bastards stuck sweeping up the party refuse, she took a seat next to Tabitha at one of the booths. “Long night?” Tabs smirked over the rim of her glass, as Selina rubbed her temples.

“I think I'm taking tomorrow off,” Selina groaned. “I can do the whole party scene for a while, but I need a break.”

“Too many conversations with people about their nice houses in Europe?” Tabitha guessed. “Or is that rich-boy friend of yours coming by too often now?”

Selina looked up sharply. “Bruce is just another kid I know!”She insisted

“Come on, I know you have a history with him,” Tabitha smiled wryly at her. “You don't go up to the rooftops with just anybody.”

Selina tried to work up a glare, but her heart just wasn't in it. “I've got a feeling those days are over.”

“Hmm,” Tabs sipped her drink thoughtfully. “Well, sometimes that happens. I don't need to tell you how sometimes people just leave.” She sighed, and Selina could almost see the photo's in her mind as the older woman thought back to her own sad list of past friends. “I've found it's not very often that people come _back_ into your life. And it's usually only after something happened to beat some sense into them!”

Tabitha's right hand absentmindedly fiddled as she was saying this, her fingers rubbing against each other to trace a ring she sometimes wore; a ring that Selina knew Butch had given her.

Selina was silent for a moment, staring down at the table with her head in her hands. Then she took a deep breath, and looked up. “Yah, I think I'm gonna need tomorrow night off too. Where did you leave the thirty inch riding crop?”

 

**So I hope this comes off as a realistic portrayal of the characters. Selina gets an annoying run in with the new Bruce, and then gets a reminder of the boy he used to be, and I think that would be enough to prompt her into action. And I wish we'd gotten to see more of Tabitha being Selina's new older sister.**

 

**Also, I just have this headcannon that Bruce would be able to beat the crap out of someone even when he's slobbering drunk, had to right that down somewhere!**

 


End file.
